


Just a Little Chat

by ShipMaester



Series: Stonestag and Ladydire [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:30:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4153644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipMaester/pseuds/ShipMaester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is pure CRACK FIC, and while I've written several things in order to try to heal the wounds, junk like this is what can ultimately happen when trying to recover from the hurt and misery that is HBO's Season 5 of Game of Thrones and GRRM's defense of it all.  </p><p>Here's the bit where I own up to playing with GRRM's toys, and with more respect than HBO no matter how crack this fic gets I might add, but have no profit motive.  This is just therapy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

King’s Landing 2015  
Stannis

The result of a lifetime of not letting your feeling show is having even those closest to you imagine that you have no feelings at all.  At work, Stannis was all work and no play while running Baratheon Enterprises while his older brother took the CEO pay and spent money like it was water and his younger brother also took a salary, but seldom saw the inside of his office.   

Earlier in the day, he heard a voice he recognized as Brienne Tarth talking about anonymous chat rooms and how they had helped her cope.  He could only assume the need to cope stemmed from the time when the object of her great devotion was his brother Renly, who he remembered being the only man to dance with her at the yearly anniversary party the first year Ms. Tarth joined Baratheon Enterprises.  Stannis remembered considering it, but it would have been too much of a spectacle since he never danced at the company parties, not even with Selyse when they were married.  He had been quite proud of Renly, who danced with women at these parties, but most everyone knew Renly preferred male partners in bed.  Stannis also remembered the adoration in Ms. Tarth’s eyes and knew it could only mean heartbreak for her.  That was two years ago and, with the exception of having that look at several meetings Renly happened to attend, she didn’t make a show of it or let it affect her work. 

Sitting at his laptop at one in the morning with work all done and sleep far from him, Stannis stared at the BE logo screen saver before him.  His Internet connection was heavily encrypted due to work and it was worth a try . . . just to talk to someone for a while . . . someone who didn’t call him Mr. Baratheon or Sir  . . . someone other than Shireen who might actually ask him how his day went.  It took him almost an hour to find one that didn’t seem to be one that was meant solely for cybersex.  Then again, Stannis wasn’t entirely sure he was opposed to that although he was sure he would not be any better at that than he was at the real thing. 

STONESTAG > Is there anyone out there this time of night?  
LADYDIRE > I’m here, SS.  Can’t sleep?  
STONESTAG > Happens often.  Same with you, or are you in a time zone where it’s not late?  
LADYDIRE > It’s late here too.  What disturbs your sleep?

Stannis thought for long second.  How personal did he want to make this?

STONESTAG > Duty.  I know that makes little sense.   
LADYDIRE > The burdens of doing everything you are required to do.  It can be a sleep robber.   
STONESTAG > What keeps you up tonight?  
LADYDIRE > Nightmares.   
STONESTAG > Sorry.   Do they have a basis in fact or are they brought on by horrific television?  
LADYDIRE >  Fact, unfortunately. 

Well, not exactly the chat he had in mind, but if he wanted someone to ask about him, he needed to also ask about them. 

STONESTAG > Anything you want to talk about?   
LADYDIRE > Not in detail, but it’s nice of you to ask.  I seem to be a magnet for the wrong kind of guy.

Oh great!  He had some lovelorn teenager.  At least this didn’t sound like Ms. Tarth.  Well, it was someone to talk to and it would be rude to exit too prematurely. 

STONESTAG >  I know the kind of guy you are talking about well. Work with one.   
LADYDIRE >   You do your job while your co-worker chases girls around the office?  
STONESTAG >  Something like that.   
LADYDIRE >  Tell me about your family.

He did not want to say anything that would identify him, but he did come here to talk to someone and it would be difficult to have a conversation about nothing.  Stannis tried to keep it honest, but not giving too much information that might make him identifiable.

STONESTAG >  Brothers who don’t get along.  Divorced, thankfully. 

Stannis started to write, “Young, very sweet daughter who lives with me,” but opted not to.  Not to be duplicitous, but he wanted to leave Shireen out of this.  He could end up with some mother wanting to give him parenting advice or, worse, a woman who believes Shireen should be living with her mother without knowing the facts. 

LADYDIRE > Parents?  
STONESTAG > Parents died in an accident.      
LADYDIRE > So very sorry.  
STONESTAG > Thank you.  Your family?  
LADYDIRE > Five siblings.  Adore my brothers, although was not very kind to one until I was an adult.  Strained relationship with my sister, but I’m sure it will get better.  Parents not deceased.  No husband . . . close call, but very glad it did not work out as he was one of the ones that turned out to be a bad boy.  Second bad boy was not really “bad” to me personally.  He would never have hurt me.  But he had issues like major drinking and fighting.  Latest bad boy is not one I am dating.  He’s more like a stalker type. 

Stannis felt a surge of concern even though this was a stranger.  She claimed to be old enough to have an ex-boyfriend she almost married.  So maybe not a teenager, although who knows.  Still, she was probably a young girl. 

STONESTAG >  Have you gone to the police about stalker?  
LADYDIRE >  One cop trying to be very helpful, but has his hands tied.   
STONESTAG >  Do you have a reason to be afraid of this stalker?  
LADYDIRE >   That is the great unknown.  His father wants to be in business with mine.  Perhaps he thinks romancing me will please his father; I don’t know exactly what he thinks.  But when I refused his invitations for dates, he became nasty.  Very nasty.

A picture was forming in Stannis’ mind. 

STONESTAG >  I understand you not wanting to tell me too much or to be identified, but are you telling me the police aren’t responsive because of who this boy’s father is?  
LADYDIRE >  You are very perceptive.  But you are right, I shouldn’t say too much.   
STONESTAG > I suspect we are on here for similar reasons.  Both need someone to talk to just as much as we need anonymity.   
LADYDIRE >  I admit it’s nice to talk to a guy who hasn’t tried to turn this into cybersex in the first few minutes. 

Stannis wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  He just stared at the screen.   
  
LADYDIRE > That lag is either because I scared you by the mention of it OR you were planning to go there.  I’m not into it, but not judging those who are.   
STONESTAG > Admit relief.  It’s a road I’ve not taken.   
ADORABLE_IMP > You 2 don’t know what UR missing!  Y Ls UB here?

This was the sort of thing Stannis was afraid of.  He was about to type “nice to meet you Ladydire” and say goodnight when her next text popped up. 

LADYDIRE >  Creating private chat room and inviting you.  Please wait a minute.  
ADORABLE_IMP > Hey!  Not nice!

***You are invited to a private chat with LADYDIRE.  Select OK to accept or CANCEL***

Stannis selected OK. 

LADYDIRE > A_I is here most nights.  He can be adorable when he’s not trying to be a lech.  
STONESTAG >  So it is just the two of us now?  
LADYDIRE >  You can create a private room and invite people.  I’m sure some superhacker knows how to invade, but I’ve never seen evidence of it.   
STONESTAG > Where were we?  
LADYDIRE > Both claiming we’d rather not do cybersex, which does leave us with coming up with a subject to talk about.  Why don’t you tell me as much as you feel you comfortable about this duty that keeps you up nights.  
STONESTAG >  Work.  Hard to keep the boat afloat when I have no help from my peers. 

By peers, he meant brothers.

LADYDIRE > Reminds me of someone I know, and he is greatly underappreciated by both my co-workers and his peers too.  I don’t know how he does it.  My workplace seems to live or die by his decisions.

Stannis was suspicious for a second that this might be someone from BE, but no.  No one thought of him like that except perhaps his only real friend, Davos Seaworth, and he didn’t work at BE. 

STONESTAG >  It does sound familiar.  I envy your boss having at least one person who thinks of him that way.  
LADYDIRE > You probably shouldn’t.  I have a crush on my boss:)

Now he KNEW it wasn’t anyone at BE!

STONESTAG >  Using the word crush leaves me wanting to ask you how old you are.   
LADYDIRE >  It is a bit of a childish word.  So, I’m attracted to him but he would never look my way in a million years.  He’s not a bad boy and he would think being with a younger woman would be something a bad boy would do.  
STONESTAG > How much older is he?  
LADYDIRE > I’d guess about fifteen or sixteen years.   
STONESTAG > What makes him so attractive with that age difference?  
LADYDIRE > That would be giving TMI.  The description could identify him if you live near me.   
STONESTAG >  Agreed.  Are you sure you aren’t trying to make him into a bad boy?  
LADYDIRE >  I don’t even think that’s possible with this man.  Perhaps that’s the attraction.   
STONESTAG >  Is he single?  
LADYDIRE >  Yes. 

There was a part of Stannis that tried to imagine what it would be like if one of the younger girls at BE tried to get his attention that way.  Davos once commented that it was bound to happen since he was a man of wealth and now single.  He’d been single for two years now and, not that he wanted some gold-digger type after him, but Robert was the easier and more charming mark after his messy divorce. Robert never tired of telling how much sympathy sex he garnered over the public scandal of his children not being his. A liaison with Robert usually meant a promotion at the very least, unless you made the breakup ugly. 

STONESTAG >  I’m trying to imagine what I would do in that situation.  It has never come up.  No advice here.   
LADYDIRE > He wouldn’t appreciate it. 

Stannis grew a bit defensive for her boss, thinking about his own situation.

STONESTAG > You are probably mistaken if you think he likes being isolated.  It’s probably his work persona.  If he is in upper-level management, it would be impossible for him to have a relationship with someone who works for him.   
LADYDIRE > It’s common practice for one of our other managers.  What about you.  Any office “attractions”?

Was he really going to go there?

STONESTAG > One, but she turns all the heads at work.  I try not to make it as obvious as the rest of them.   
LADYDIRE > You go for the pretty women?  
STONESTAG >  This one isn’t pretty.  She is a rare beauty.  But there’s more to it than that.  She’s got an elegance that is hard to describe. 

Stannis had not been in favor of hiring Sansa Stark just because she was the daughter of Robert’s oldest friend.  There was some reason Robert wasn't telling for why she didn’t stay up North and work in Stark Holdings and he had insisted they hire her. One look at her and he had succumbed.  Stannis did feel slightly justified that it may have been his instinct for talent that kicked in rather than being awestruck when they met. Sansa proved to be a hard worker and very good at developing their training programs. 

LADYDIRE > But you can’t ask her out because she works for you?  
STONESTAG > Not directly.  And trust me when I say it would make her extremely uncomfortable.  I wouldn’t do that to her or me.  
LADYDIRE >  She could be like me.  She could be wishing you would ask her.   
STONESTAG > I very much doubt it.  Besides, I haven’t dated in, well, ever. 

Stannis was about to write that his first wife had been a business deal, but that made him look pathetic.  It was pathetic. 

LADYDIRE > You acquired a first wife without dating?  
STONESTAG >  Been so long, I can’t remember.  This boss you have an attraction to.  Does he have a clue?  
LADYDIRE >  I hope not!   
STONESTAG > From my own perspective, I wish you could find a way to give him a hint.  I admit that it would dumbfound me, but deep down it would be nice to know someone thought I was human.     
LADYDIRE > I know he’s human.  I’m not sure he knows he is.  And I would say you were right about the rest of the staff thinking he’s not.   
STONESTAG > Why do you have this special insight into his humanity?  
LADYDIRE > Study. Well, that and he reminds me of my father who is also a duty first guy.   
STONESTAG >  Ahh.  So the truth comes out.  The attraction is he reminds you of your father.  
LADYDIRE > In his steadiness of character, he does.  If you had told me this was the type of man I would have been attracted to four years ago, I would have told you that you were out there like Pluto.   
STONESTAG >  Out there like Pluto? I like that expression.   
LADYDIRE > As one who didn’t make it up, you have my permission to use it:)  
STONESTAG > It’s almost three.  I don’t know about you, but I should at least try to sleep a few hours.   
LADYDIRE > Same here.  Thank you.  It’s been a nice chat.   
STONESTAG > Agreed.  I hope to see you here again sometime.  
LADYDIRE > If you’re having trouble sleeping tomorrow night, I’ll probably be here. 

Stannis felt a wave of sympathy and more concern.  He wondered how afraid she was of this stalker person and if her fears were well founded.  She could be a drama queen, but she didn’t sound like it. 

STONESTAG > If I’m not still working, I will talk to you then.  
LADYDIRE > Oh, SS.  One more thing.  Try smiling at this object of your admiration.  You never know.   
STONESTAG > I look ridiculous when I smile.  
LADYDIRE > I tried!  Goodnight!  
STONESTAG > Goodnight

Stannis turned off the computer, but didn’t fall asleep any time soon.  He tried to imagine what the young woman on the other end of that chat looked like, where she lived, what she did for a living, and what her boss was like.  He finally fell asleep imagining it was Sansa Stark. 


	2. Chapter 2

King’s Landing 2015  
Sansa Stark

Whoever STONESTAG was, he reminded her of Stannis Baratheon.  For at least the last half of the chat, she imagined it was him she was talking to.  She knew it was impossible that it was, but whoever it was, they had a lot in common.  For a second, she had considered part of his name, STAG, with a bit of trepidation.  Baratheon Enterprises’ logo had once had stag horns on it until they rebranded with a more modern logo.  It had once been the sigil of House Baratheon, but few people remembered things like that anymore.  She imagined that this person in the chat room meant it not as the male deer, but as one without a partner, like going stag to a party.  Besides, when she asked him about family, he hadn’t mentioned a daughter.  The one time Sansa knew that Stannis was capable of smiling was when she came upon him and his daughter in the lobby at work on a day Shireen Baratheon had a day off from school that wasn’t a day off at work.  Sansa learned then that Stannis didn’t smile with his mouth; you had to see it in his eyes. 

Sansa started looking for STONESTAG around eleven o’clock, talking randomly to ADORABLE_IMP, FLOWERPOWER, and SHE_BEAR.  Before that, she had been on a voice-over-IP call with her mother and father for a half hour.  Her father still felt Ramsay Bolton was all talk and that his father would keep him in line and wasn’t a threat.  Her mother said very little on the subject; she knew about the scars on her oldest daughter’s back from a rage Joffrey went into after he found out he was not Robert Baratheon’s son while her father only knew that Joffrey had made her afraid.  Distance from the North made her feel a bit safer from Ramsay and Bartheon Enterprises was one of the last places you would ever see Joffrey, who had returned with his mother to Lannisport.    

She saw the notice that STONESTAG had joined the chat a little after midnight.  Sansa immediately sent a request for him to join her in a private chat, receiving a whine from ADORABLE_IMP facetiously claiming that she didn’t love him anymore. 

LADYDIRE > How was your day?  
STONESTAG > Not long enough.  Yours?  
LADYDIRE > Not bad.  No drama.    
STONESTAG > Sometimes, those are the best days.    
LADYDIRE >  What do you do when you aren’t working?

There was a pause.  Sansa wondered if he was deciding how to answer or didn’t approve of the question. 

STONESTAG > Work with occasional bouts of eating and sleeping is about it.  Not much else to mention.  
LADYDIRE >  I hope you’re either exaggerating or just wanting to leave something out.  
STONESTAG > There’s a touch of exaggeration.  Not much. 

Sansa was finding it a bit more difficult to talk to him tonight, but she didn’t want to go back to the random flirtation of A_I. 

LADYDIRE > Tell me about your favorite movie.  You have taken the time to watch a movie, haven’t you?  
STONESTAG > I have.  It would be The Andals.    
LADYDIRE > The movie about the Andal invasion.  I saw it.  The children of the forest were pretty creepy.  
STONESTAG > Not as “creepy” as the Wights in The Watchers.  Your favorite movie?  
LADYDIRE > I’m admittedly a romantic and one for romcoms.  Anything starring Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand works for me.      
STONESTAG > I’m illiterate when it comes to those face things - emojis or emoticons?  If I knew how, I would make a face of horror if there is one.    
LADYDIRE >  If you’re going to get back into the dating game, SS, you might need to learn to endure one or two of those movies.    
STONESTAG >  What is expected on a date these days?

Sansa rather doubted STONESTAG would like the club scene, and she had grown bored with it where others her age were still into it.  She thought for a minute about what her perfect date would be like, but this wasn’t about her.    

LADYDIRE >  It’s different based on ages and tastes.  I highly recommend you let it reflect who you are and not who you think your date wants you to be.    
STONESTAG > Sage advice.    
LADYDIRE >  So where would you take a date to show her the real you? DO NOT SAY WORK.  
STONESTAG >  I assume out to dinner is still a tried and true date starter.    
LADYDIRE > It’s a neutral place, but hardly a place that tells her about you.      
STONESTAG > If work is out, the next place with any definition of me would be to take her sailing.       
LADYDIRE > Well done!  Frankly, that sounds better than any date I’ve been on. 

She wanted to ask him if he had his own sailboat.  If he was a successful business man, it was quite possible.  Did Stannis have a sailboat or a yacht?  She knew he spent time in the Westerosi Navy and had achieved a high rank before, as her father told it, Robert almost bankrupted the company and Stannis had to take over.  She tried imagining Stannis on the deck of a sailboat. 

STONESTAG > At least if you’re laughing, I can’t see it.    
LADYDIRE > Quite the opposite.  Would you be a one-man crew, expect your date to help you crew, or do you have a crew?    
STONESTAG > I have a small enough craft that I can crew by myself.  Also have access to a larger vessel and a crew.  I guess the larger one would be more impressive.      
LADYDIRE > Not necessarily.  What time of day would you go sailing?    
STONESTAG >  Starts in daylight and ends at sunset if it’s in the smaller sailboat.  Crewed vessel could start at sunset and go into the evening.    
LADYDIRE > Tough call.  I was thinking two on a sailboat would be more romantic, but the crewed one that starts at sunset and goes into evening has an upside as well.  Perhaps a first date should be the crewed vessel where you could pay more attention to the date and have a nice dinner.  Later, the smaller sailboat with you as the one-man crew while you teach her to crew with you.    
STONESTAG > You’re making an assumption I would get a second date.

She didn’t respond to his doubt because a hazy picture started to form in her mind of man she knew was meant to be Stannis leaning against the rail of a bow as they sailed in Blackwater Bay at sunset.  Sansa realized that she didn’t want to ask STONESTAG what he looked like because she wanted to picture Stannis instead.  Reddening as she watched the screen, she kept hearing Stannis’ graveled voice speaking every word STONESTAG wrote on the screen.    

LADYDIRE > What would you wear on a sailing date?  
STONESTAG > It wouldn’t be a suit.

She was relieved, but she couldn’t quite get a good image.  Perhaps another Mr. Business telling her what someone like Stannis would wear would help.  She was having a fantasy at STONESTAG’s expense. 

LADYDIRE > Be more specific, please.    
STONESTAG > This time of year, I would wear a pair of slacks and a Henley.    
LADYDIRE > What color slacks?    
STONESTAG > Why?  
LADYDIRE > I’ve never been on a sailing date.  I’m trying to get a mental picture of the full tableau.  
STONESTAG > Most of my more casual slacks are tan.  What would you wear if you were asked on a sailing date?

Well, she wasn’t necessarily alone in trying to create a picture.  Okay, she could go with this. 

LADYDIRE > A blue halter top with a flowing white skirt that moves in the wind.  Of course, since it moves in the wind, I would probably also be wearing a bathing suit bottom underneath.  
STONESTAG > That prompts a few questions I won’t bring myself to ask.    
LADYDIRE > Might as well.  I can always decline to answer.     
STONESTAG > Would this bathing suit bottom be a bikini?    
LADYDIRE > It is what I have.  Anything else?  
STONESTAG > You might get cold with bare arms.        
LADYDIRE > Which should have you noting that it might be smart to bring a jacket so you could be chivalrous and wrap it around your date’s shoulders should she need it.    
STONESTAG > Point well taken. 

Suddenly, a the fog lifted and she got a clear mental image of Stannis Baratheon, tall and wearing that scowl with narrowed eyes she, for some reason even she couldn’t fathom, found oh so sexy, wrapped a tan sport coat around her bare shoulders.  Her long auburn hair was loose and blowing in the wind as he still held the lapels of the coat and pulled her closer.  Sansa actually squirmed in her seat. 

LADYDIRE > You would, I presume, have music playing?  
STONESTAG >  I suppose I could bring a variety and let her pick something.  
LADYDIRE > Not recommended.    
STONESTAG > What do you recommend?    
LADYDIRE > Something timeless and personal.    
STONESTAG > Billie Holiday?

Sansa closed her eyes and imagined Stannis pulling her into his arms and staring down at her with those intense, dark blue eyes and then slowly swaying with her to Just the Thought of You in the moonlight.  She imagined laying her head on his shoulder and her body grew extremely warm at the thought of being so close she could feel his heat.  Slowly she opened her eyes and saw the latest words on the screen.    
  
STONESTAG > Are you still there?  
LADYDIRE > Sorry.  I was imagining the sailing date.    
STONESTAG > Only your date was with your older boss.  
LADYDIRE > Only fair.  Your date was probably wearing my skirt, halter, and bikini bottoms.      
STONESTAG > Guilty, although I’d like to know a little more about what you were imagining.    
LADYDIRE > Dancing.  Do you slow dance, SS?  
STONESTAG > Not in a very long time and I could probably count the total on the fingers of one hand.  
LADYDIRE > But you could for this date?  I mean it IS Billie Holiday you’re playing for mood music.    
STONESTAG > I could.  What would you want your boss to say to you during this dance?  
LADYDIRE >  Absolutely nothing.  
STONESTAG >  Good.  I can manage that.    
LADYDIRE > He does kiss me, first kiss, after this dance.  
STONESTAG >  Bit sudden, isn’t it?  
LADYDIRE > It’s not a hot, passionate kiss.  Not yet.  It’s soft and lingering, and hints of things to come.  
STONESTAG > And this hot, passionate kiss that is to come . . . is it to come later that evening?  
LADYDIRE > Maybe.   I don’t know about you, but this man would be very careful, very deliberate.  He’d take his cues from the woman he’s with.    
STONESTAG >   If he knows how to read them.    
LADYDIRE > I think he’d catch on quick enough in the right circumstances.    
STONESTAG >  And those circumstances would be?    
LADYDIRE > Well, I know this man would totally miss a certain type of smile in the office, but not on a date in the moonlight.  
STONESTAG > Would you give your boss that permissive smile on a first date?  
LADYDIRE > For the hot, passionate kiss, yes.    
STONESTAG > Sure he would know the difference?  
LADYDIRE > This man, when it comes to that, I will have to tell him I’m seducing him.  
STONESTAG > I’m beginning to fear I have a brother out there that I know nothing about.  On that note, it’s late and you should get some sleep.    
LADYDIRE > Hope so.  I know what I’d like to dream about.  Goodnight, SS.    
STONESTAG >  Goodnight, my Lady. 

Sansa feel asleep thinking about Stannis Baratheon, scowl firmly fixed, sailing into the wind of Blackwater Bay with her by his side. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading and commenting on my crack-fic! It really is me being balled up in a corner looking for a fluffy security blanket after Season 5.

Kings Landing 2015  
Stannis Baratheon

It wasn’t so much the totally unproductive workday from being unable to shake the image of a certain tall, poised redhead standing at the bow pulpit of the Fury with her hair blowing in the wind that made Stannis go home early.  It was passing Sansa Stark in the hall.  When she smiled at him briefly in her shy way, he could only mutter a brief “good afternoon” and keep on going.  His imagination went in a million different directions, and while most of them ended up leading back to her standing against the lifeline at the stern of the Fury, several of them started to go toward the Fury’s main cabin. 

Stannis had no idea what leaving early without a well-planned excuse would cause.  Robert heard about it and called him to see if he was alright.  He was so surprised that his older brother would even inquire about him, he merely told him he was fine and just wanted to work from home to get more done.  He hadn’t counted on little Shireen’s concern over his being home early.  She spent time trying to be the woman of the house and fussing over him, which he hated to admit he enjoyed.  At least he enjoyed it until he realized how much he had scared her by this rare event when Davos called asking if he was okay and learned a frightened Shireen had called to ask if anything was the matter with her father.  He tried to make it up to her by sitting with her while she did the minuscule amount of homework assigned to a child in her early years of primary school and then actually watching a movie with her after an early supper rather than going straight to his laptop for more work. 

By eleven, he gave up trying to do any more work and logged into the chat room.  LADYDIRE and he had not made plans to meet in chat tonight.  He did know she was talking to him and fantasizing he was someone else; and that she knew he was doing the same.  Last night, he began to think like a man instead of a machine with a list of tasks to accomplish.  She was there when he logged on and he watched her chat with FLOWERPOWER about his budding romance with a "well-heeled" man.  LADYDIRE was kind, but the conversation didn’t have the same personal touch their two chats had.  After a half hour of watching her chat with others, he couldn’t take it anymore and invited her into a private chat room. 

STONESTAG > Do you mind chatting in private for a while?   
LADYDIRE > Not at all.  How was your day?

Stannis ruefully looked at the screen remembering the first night he started this thinking how nice it would be to have someone ask just that.  

STONESTAG > Non-productive.  I spent most of the day thinking about a white skirt blowing in the wind.   
LADYDIRE > I refuse to apologize since I had similar issues today.   
STONESTAG > Wasn’t asking for an apology. 

He paused for a moment.  There was something she had written last night that had made him inordinately curious. 

STONESTAG > I understand if you don’t want to answer this.  Last night you said you would have to tell your boss if were seducing him.  How would you do that?  I’m not asking you to be graphic if you don’t want.   

As much as he hated to admit it, he would welcome it if she were graphic. 

LADYDIRE > Afraid you’d miss it if the object of your interest tried it?   
STONESTAG >  Can’t imagine I’ll have the opportunity.   
LADYDIRE >  To be completely honest, I’m not sure.  I know I would have to seduce him.  I know I’d have to make sure he knows I’m trying to seduce him.  I’m not sure HOW I would do it.   To be honest, I have no experience at all in this area.  For our mutual benefit, we should probably work this problem backward.   
STONESTAG >  You’re asking how someone like me could be seduced?  
LADYDIRE > More to the point, how would you like to be seduced?  
STONESTAG > Tough question.  I thought you had this all figured out.  
LADYDIRE > Sorry.  I know it has to be done.  Haven’t a clue how to go about it.   
STONESTAG > Let’s start with how many dates before this seduction would take place?  
LADYDIRE > With my first boyfriend, it was months because I was uncertain and that should have told me a great deal.  Thing is, this man wouldn’t risk one date unless he was seriously considering a relationship.  I think it’s why he doesn’t date at all.  I would need to convince him by date three that I want him, whether or not we’re going to act on it right away.  
STONESTAG > So you would want the relationship to take its time, but you want him to be aware of your intentions early on.      
LADYDIRE > Have to.  He doesn’t delay making big decisions. 

Stannis could understand that completely.  He’d want to know he wasn’t wasting his time, but he wouldn’t want her to think he was only interested in her for sex.   

STONESTAG > You’re sure he wouldn’t push the issue?  
LADYDIRE > Oh no.  He’d need a clear invitation.   
STONESTAG > Doesn’t sound very masculine of him.

Who was he kidding?  He’d need a signed invitation with implicit instructions.

LADYDIRE > After one man in my life who felt entitled to getting what he wanted when he wanted it, another who threw what I offered away on alcohol, and a third who won’t take no for an answer, he sounds perfect to me.   
STONESTAG > Still leaves you with a bit of a dilemma.   
LADYDIRE > What if, on one of these dates, I asked him to let me cook him dinner?   
STONESTAG > Can you cook?  
LADYDIRE > Uh . . . just barely.  I might have to fudge with a little takeout.   
STONESTAG > I think the term is LOL.  Please continue.  
LADYDIRE > He’s always very tense.  Just as we finish dinner, I might get up to clear the dishes and as I come back to the table, I would attempt to give him a neck rub.   
STONESTAG > Problem.  He is probably going to get up to help you clear the table.   
LADYDIRE > You think he’ll help me load the dishwasher?  
STONESTAG > I would.  Especially if I thought you went to all the trouble to pick up dinner.  
LADYDIRE > LOL back at you.  So, if you were rinsing dishes, would you be terribly shocked if I came up behind you and began to message your shoulders?  
STONESTAG > I might be shocked, but I’d let it happen. 

At least if it was Sansa Stark, he'd let it happen and pray he didn't jump a mile the second she touched him.

  
LADYDIRE > What would you think was going on?  
STONESTAG > That you were being very kind.  
LADYDIRE > And if I asked you to sit back down so I could continue because you are very tense?  
STONESTAG > I’d sit.  
LADYDIRE > Good.  I’d message your shoulders for a while longer and then move up to your neck, along the back of your ears, and up to your temples. 

Stannis was not about to tell her that he might stop this in real life because he was rock hard at just thinking about Sansa’s long fingers on him.  He needed to cool this down a bit. 

STONESTAG > We’re now at your house.  What music have you chosen?   
LADYDIRE > Norah Jones.  Come Away With Me.  Know it?  
STONESTAG > Yes.

So much for cooling down.

LADYDIRE > Going back to your shoulders, I might kiss your neck and trail a few kisses along the ridge of one of your ears.  Would you begin to get the idea?  
STONESTAG >  I would decidedly have a few ideas.  Not sure I’d have an idea of whether you want anything to do with the ideas I was having though.   
LADYDIRE > And if I asked you if there was any other part of you that was tense and needed a message?

Reading that, Stannis did something he hadn’t done in years.  He navigated the zipper of his twill slacks and took himself in hand.  With one hand, he tried to type. 

STONESTAG > Are you suggesting what I think you are?

Stannis owed the software programmers that created Auto Correct.

LADYDIRE > Be more specific.  
STONESTAG > You have to know what ~~is~~ ***erase*** would be tense.  
LADYDIRE  > I could only hope.  
STONESTAG > But if he dared to tell you, would you go that far?  
LADYDIRE > This is not a man you’d open a door for and then shut it on him.  You’d never get that chance again.  If I open the door, I need to be prepared to walk through it. 

It had been so long and he was so worked up, that it didn’t take too much time to complete his mission.  However, he did have to clench his jaw like a vise grip to keep from crying out and waking Shireen when he found his release. 

LADYDIRE > Still there?

Stannis felt the heat creep into his face.  Of course she knew exactly what kept him from promptly typing a response back to her.

STONESTAG > I’m here, but I’m going to have to go.  Early meetings tomorrow.   
LADYDIRE > Sleep well, SS.   
STONESTAG > Goodnight my Lady. 

The next day, Stannis spent the morning berating himself for letting these late-night chats interfere with work.  Later in the day, there was a meeting to review bids they had received from subcontractors to develop an instructional video for the training being developed for a new jet engine.  The meeting included a very disinterested Robert, Brienne Tarth, Richard Horpe, Justin Massey, Sansa, and himself.  Out of the corner of his eye as he was facing the screen at the far left end of the table, Stannis could see Sansa setting her tablet and coffee cup on the table, preparing to sit across from him, one seat down.  He moved his chair slightly to see her better and remembered something LADYDIRE suggested.  Stannis tried to make his mouth widen into a smile, but he must have looked totally ridiculous because her eyes widened a bit as she nodded in acknowledgement that he was trying to convey something.  She probably thought he was recognizing her presence or thought he had gas, who knew.  He could at least tell LADYDIRE he manned up and tried. 

Justin Massey went through an overview of the offerings of the four proposals they had.  Robert, to his right, was quick to cut to the chase in an attempt to get back to making his plans for the evening and asked Stannis which one he preferred. 

“One and four were about equal,” Stannis noted, facing his brother.  “Two was inadequate.”

“I agree,” Justin Massey volunteered without being asked.

Stannis glared at him for interrupting and then turned back to Robert.  “Three was, as someone said to me a few days ago, out there like Pluto.”

The thudding sound of something hitting the table made him turn towards Sansa and Brienne Tarth.  If he thought her eyes were wide when he tried to smile at her, they seemed twice that now.  Surveying the scene, she had dropped her coffee mug on the table and coffee was now all over her. 

“Are you alright, Miss Stark?” he tried to ask, but she was just staring at him with her light blue eyes looking bewildered. 

“Are you burned” Ms. Tarth asked with concern, trying to get her attention.  “Maybe you should go check.” 

Muttering a “please excuse me,” Sansa bolted out of the conference room as if it was on fire. 

Massey laughed, “Wonder what she’s got against Pluto?”

As Robert laughed in reponse and Brienne Tarth tried to bite down her disapproval of their lack of empathy, the implication of what Massey said hit him like a ton of bricks.  _Did she just have a reaction to hearing him say, “out there like Pluto,” shortly after he had tried to smile at her?_   It couldn’t be!  Was it even possible that she was LADYDIRE?  Was it even possible that Sansa Stark was sitting home alone evenings talking to faceless people in a chat room?  _NO!_   Because LADYDIRE said she was attracted to her older, not-bad-boy boss who would need an invitation to be seduced.  If Sansa was LADYDIRE  . . . _NO, it just wasn’t possible_. 

It was all Stannis could do to try to focus on the meeting and as he left it, he wasn’t sure which proposal was selected.  He thought about going by her office, but this was not a conversation he could have with her at work.  Instead, he followed Robert to his lavish office and closed the door behind them.   

“If you didn’t like the choice, why didn’t you say so?” Robert harped, plopping down in his leather chair. 

Stannis took the chair across the desk.  “I’ve got no issue with the selection.  I want you to tell me everything you know about Ms. Stark.”

“Why?” Robert bellowed.  “The poor girl spilled some coffee.  You don’t want to sack her for that!”

Grinding his teeth for a few seconds until he gained control of his temper, Stannis tried again.  “I have no intention of firing Ms. Stark, but I have a reason for asking.  You can tell me what I want to know or I get Davos to investigate her.”

“For what reason?  What the _hell_ is going on with you, Stannis?” 

Stannis couldn’t blame Robert for his reaction.  In similar circumstances, he would react the same.  But he had to know if Robert could tell him anything about her that might rule her out as possibly being LADYDIRE . . . or, and he still couldn’t fathom it, lead him to conclude she was indeed LADYDIRE.  “I’ve got a reason and it will either come to nothing or you’ll know soon enough.”  Robert might chase every skirt in King’s Landing regardless of age, but he wouldn’t make it easy for Stannis to attempt even the most honorable relationship with his best friend’s daughter.  “Let’s start with why she came to King’s Landing to work here instead of staying up North and working in Ned’s finance firm?”

Robert sighed and began his story, “You know of Bolton Textiles?”

“Yes.”

“Ned couldn’t tell me what Roose Bolton met with him about, but he came to Winterfell with his son, Ramsay, and while this deal was being discussed, Ramsay tried to get Sansa’s attention and she wouldn’t have anything to do with him.  Ned turned down whatever proposal Bolton brought to him and it didn’t sit well with young Bolton, nor did Sansa turning him down.  He flew into a rage and made some pretty nasty threats.  Ned thinks he was just spouting off, but several days after they supposedly left the area, she received a skinned wolf in the mail.  Direwolves were the old House Stark sigil and she had one named Lady.  At the minimum, it could be said he was threatening her direwolf. The girl had already been abused by another boyfriend.”

 _She has a direwolf named Lady?_   He really didn't need any other proof, but yet he continued because this next part was of great concern to him.  “Do you know who this other boyfriend was?” Stannis spat out. 

“Yes,” Robert said in the lowest volume Stannis had ever heard him use.  His brother suddenly looked old and tired.  “If you think about it, you know the answer too.”

 _Joffrey!_ He personally wanted to rip the boy’s head off and feed it to this direwolf of Sansa’s, but his brother didn’t need to hear it. 

“Thank you,” Stannis said, rising from the chair.  Fortunately, Robert didn’t ask any more questions and Stannis tamped his anger down enough to remember the humiliation Robert had gone through with Cercei and the pain of finding out children he thought were his were not.  He still had a relationship with Tommen and Marcella, but Joffrey either wanted it all or none at all.  Stannis was inclined to give him something alright, but that would have to wait for another day.  But it was a day that would most definitely come. 

As he walked back to his office, there was no denying it.  Sansa Stark had to be LADYDIRE and she had just realized he was STONESTAG.  “Ms. Mormont, I have never asked you to do any personal errands for me.  I’m asking you if I can make a request along those lines of you today?”  He said to his personal assistant, already knowing the answer.  Alysane Mormont is very capable and very loyal. 

“Of course, Mr. Baratheon.  How may I be of service?” 

“First, I need you to call the marina and instruct them to have the Fury read for this evening . . . “


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all for reading so far and for the generous comments. I would normally reply to each one and may yet, but am taking all the free time I can find at the moment to work on updates!

King’s Landing 2015  
Sansa Stark

The coffee had been lukewarm at best, yet may all the gods bless Brienne for giving her the excuse of checking whether she was burned to allow her to flee. By the time she got to the ladies’ room, she was relatively certain Stannis was oblivious to what made her drop her coffee, but if he thought about it and realized what he’d said just before she made a scene, he could easily figure it out. Sansa hoped the idea that she might have been burned by the coffee or that she couldn’t stay with coffee all over her was enough to forgive her leaving early without asking permission. She needed to be out of Baratheon Enterprises and home where she could think, call her mother, or start packing for the farthest part of Essos she could escape to! 

During the ten minute drive to her apartment, Sansa kept trying to process that Stannis was STONESTAG. So “stag” stood for the family sigil. She had considered the possibility, but _Stannis in a chat room?_ _Stannis with an attraction to someone at BE? Who would that be? Alysane Mormont?_ She liked Alysane, but no . . . he said she turned a lot of heads and that wasn’t Alysane. _Nymeria Sand?_ Sansa had seen him roll his eyes at Margaery Tyrell when she flirted with Robert, but thinking about it now, maybe that was bravado? Even if he didn’t figure it out, how could she face him again and how could she ever chat with him again? 

The first thing Sansa did once she was at her apartment was take a shower. She put on a pair of faded jeans and a tee before drying her hair. There was a part of her that wanted to call her mother, confess all, and get her advice. That said, she didn’t relish telling her mother she spent evenings in a chat room talking to strangers and ended up having a fantasy date with an older man who turned out to be Stannis Baratheon and who just happened to be the only man in King’s Landing to attract her interest in the year she’d been here. She definitely didn’t want to tell her mother how she thought she had made him release himself during the chat, or had hoped that was what she got him to do while she talked to him about massaging any place he so desired. 

To delay the call and work up the courage, she busied herself with putting a stain remover on the affected parts of her blouse and pencil skirt. Then, Sansa found it necessary to vacuum the apartment. Next, there was the need to rearrange her book shelf at least three times before she was satisfied. Sansa had just finished that when the doorbell rang. Looking in the peephole, she saw a man in navy blue uniform and cap. Warily, she called through the door, “Your business, please?”

“I have a message from Mr. Baratheon,” he said, holding a white envelope near the peephole so she could see her name written in the block script she knew to belong to Stannis. So he had figured it out. Sansa felt a wave of nausea as she opened the door and took the envelope. “I was asked to wait for a reply, Miss Stark.” 

Sansa left the door open, but stepped back inside to open the envelope and take out the folded white letter on BE stationery. Taking a deep breath and knowing she had no one to blame but herself if this was notification that she was fired, she unfolded and read:

> Sansa
> 
> I am sorry you found out who I am in such a shocking manner. I am not in the least sorry about finding out you are LADYDIRE. It would be easy for me to retreat behind my self-made wall of seclusion and try to convince you I was referring to some other woman at BE, but I don’t lie and I’m tired of living behind that wall. This may not be what a woman wants to hear, but just looking at you gives me peace. You’ve opened a door, whether you meant to or not. The question is do you want to walk through it? If you do, the driver will wait for you as long as you require to change into what I suggest might be a white skirt or anything else you deem appropriate for an evening sail. If you do not, tell the driver to return and you will hear no more of this from me unless there is another option you wish to consider. If you were burned from the coffee spill and want to postpone, I understand, but request you call me as I have been concerned. You have my mobile number. Should you decline the offer, know that you gave me three nights I will never forget, but please tell the driver whether you suffered any burns. If you don't want to hear from me, I still wish to know how you are.
> 
> SS

She read it three times. It had all the formality of Stannis Baratheon and the knowledge of STONESTAG, not to mention being signed SS rather than his usual SB. Stannis Baratheon was well known for telling the truth, whether you wanted to hear it or not. Sansa could only believe him when he claimed she had been the woman he was thinking of in their chats. Everything fit with the exception of his not mentioning having a daughter and then again, both of their motives had been not to reveal too much. 

For a moment, she forgot the driver who stood patiently at the door waiting for an answer. He needed an answer and Sansa needed to make a decision. _This is what you want_ the voice inside her head screamed at her. Sansa closed her eyes and conjured up her image of Stannis leaning against the lifeline, she had read up on sailing and they weren’t called rails, of a large sail boat in a Henley and tan slacks. Moving back to the door, she tugged at her lower lip once for courage and then spoke to the driver, “I’ll need about thirty minutes, please?”

“Of course, Miss Stark. Mr. Baratheon said you were to have as much time as you wanted. I will be outside at the car when you are ready.” The young man retreated and she closed the door. 

Her mind started ticking off items from a mental checklist. _Appropriately shaved in all the right places for a bikini – check. Shower – check. Hair – check._ Sansa made a mad dash for the little apartment’s one bedroom and began taking off the jeans and tee she had just donned. _Black bikini, red bikini, blue bikini . . . that’s it, blue bikini bottom._ It would show through the white skirt, but that was the point. She had two blue halters. One that was backless and it had been what she envisioned in their chat fantasy. At the time, she wasn’t thinking about the long white scars on her back from Joffrey’s riding crop. However, the other blue halter was cerulean blue and had a gold clasp around the neck with a bodice that flowed down to just below the waist of the white skirt. Sansa put on the strapless top of the blue bikini and the halter top over it. Stannis would bring a jacket, she was sure of it. While heels were some women’s given for a first date no matter where it was, she opted to be a bit more sensible for the deck of a sailboat she had no idea the size of. Totally sensible would be deck shoes, but she didn’t have any and wouldn’t wear them on a first date if she did. Sansa went to a pair of white sandals with only a hint of a heel. _Would he really dance with her?_

Sansa was not one to wear a lot of makeup. The finishing touches were a bit of mascara and lip gloss, which she threw into the white clutch purse she took with her when she didn’t need the full complement of items in her overstuffed tote. She took one look in the mirror while running a brush through her red tresses one more time. _If I’m dreaming, please don’t let me wake up until he kisses me after that dance!_

It was less than thirty minutes before she was outside and looking at a black stretch limo. For the first time, Sansa questioned whether Stannis Baratheon was behind this despite her knowing his handwriting from the edits he’d made to reports she’d written. _The man she was sure had every company pen and stapler at BE accounted for sent a stretch limo?_

The driver held the door open as she walked toward the limo. He smirked for only a second at her obvious shock. “Would you like champagne or red wine?” he asked as she entered the car. 

“I’m fine, thank you,” Sansa stammered, sinking into the soft, black leather seat. 

“We should arrive at the marina in about fifteen minutes, Miss Stark.”

It was an hour, maybe more, before sunset. Perhaps he thought she would take longer to get ready and she was remiss in arriving so soon. Be that as it may she was on her way. A thought hit her . . . this hour before sunset was called the Golden Hour. _Wasn't gold one of the colors of the legendary House Baratheon?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First, love all of you who are reading and especially those who are commenting.
> 
> Second, please forgive any screw-ups on sailing terms, what to call things on a yacht, etc. Quick update means less research time there! 
> 
> Third, and a note I hope to remove . . . I'm not a great proofer of my own work, but this is getting less proofing than usual. So if you've got this bookmarked or get something that tells you this has been updated - at least until tomorrow, this may be changed a few times as I read it over again.

King’s Landing 2015  
Stannis Baratheon

 _Note to self – give Ms. Mormont a raise_.   In less than three hours, she had everything he asked for ready.  All he had to do was show up, write a note, and send the driver on his way.  As it happened, he wrote the note seven times before he felt it was passable.  Three times before he left the office.  Twice at home where he took a shower, changed into tan slacks and a black Henley, and took Shireen to the Seaworth’s for the night.  _Another note to self – send flowers to Marya and a bottle of Dornish Red to Davos._   And then twice more on the Fury before he got one he wanted to send.  Even then, he realized it smacked of his usual stiffness.  Well, she had advised that he show his date the real him.  

Just after the limo driver left, it hit Stannis that there was a very real possibility Sansa wouldn’t show, and not because she was burned.  Stannis had checked with BE med office and she hadn’t visited there, which you would think she would have if she was badly burned.  He’d considered the possibility of her not showing since the start of this plan, but now he was dwelling on it . . . and pacing the bow of the Fury . . . and grinding his teeth . . . and more pacing.  The crew stole nervous peeks at him whenever they were near, and he made sure to return them with his fiercest scowl.  _Do the math, Stannis._   Fifteen minutes for the driver to get there.  Throw in an extra five for parking, locking the limo, and walking to her apartment door.  _Being boss and everyone in HR being afraid to tell you no had its perks – they provided her address without question._   Give her five minutes to read and make a decision, ten at the most.  Another fifteen for the driver to get back and another five thrown in for good measure.  That made a return in fifty minutes or less mean he was sailing around Blackwater Bay tonight to wallow in a heavy dose of self-pity and loathing for even thinking this would work. 

Stannis continued to sulk, grind his teeth, pace, and look at his mobile for the time until forty-five minutes had passed.  At that point, he began to have a glimmer of hope.  Another ten minute passed and his panic went in the other direction.  Sansa was coming . . . now what the %&^# was he supposed to do?  _Think Stannis . . . keep pacing, but think!_   Dinner was in place.  Music was set up.  Crew had their orders.  Jacket was on the chair.  _Maybe he should have picked up flowers!_   No, Ms. Mormont had seen to their being a small arrangement of fresh flowers on the table.  He could pick one out and give it to her.  _Wouldn’t that be too over the top?_  

Seventy minutes later, the limo pulled up and the driver got out and then opened her door.  He stood watching as Sansa’s long legs draped in a flowing white skirt of a rather thin material were the first to emerge.  Then she stood, nodded to the driver as he pointed to the Fury, and made her way down the long dock to where he stood on the Fury.  The closer she got to where he stood on the starboard side of the stern, the more lovely she looked and also the more nervous.  Stannis couldn’t read anything into that.  He was a nervous wreck as he pushed the sleeves of the Henley up one forearm and then another as something to do while he watched her approach, but he also wanted her to be here.  Stannis met her on the gangplank and extended his hand to help her cross from the dock into the boat.   He almost didn’t speak, taking in the feel of her slim, soft fingers.  Regaining a bit of composure, he let go of her hand and spewed out his rehearsed greeting, “Welcome aboard the Fury.” 

Sansa smiled at him and then looked around the Fury’s stern towards the outdoor dining area and beyond.  “You said large sailboat, but I had no idea . . . how long is the Fury?”

 “A little over thirty meters,” Stannis answered, grateful for the question.  “Would you like a tour?” 

“Please,” Sansa replied, smiling at him. 

“Mind if we cast off first?”

“Not at all.” 

Stannis signaled the nearby crew-member who made his way toward the quarterdeck and then he guided Sansa toward the aft deck with a hand lightly placed on her waist.  One table was set up with the aforementioned flower arrangement for dinner.    From there, they passed into the upper saloon where she complimented the décor.  They took the spiral stairway down into the lower deck. The staircase ended in the dining saloon and galley.  Sansa complimented the cook as Stannis gave her a minute to look around the kitchen before she focused her attention back to him.  He realized the only other areas to show down here were the various staterooms . . . one bedroom after another, with the only exception being the heads either in the staterooms or just outside them.  Clearing his throat, Stannis tried nonchalantly motioning fore and aft, “The rest of the deck has staterooms.” 

Sansa blushed a light pink, yet there was also a small smile playing on her lips as she moved closer so that only he could hear.  “I promise, Stannis.  I won’t try to seduce you at the mere sight of a bed.”

Making a mental note to remember this as the first time she called him by his name rather than _Mr. Baratheon_ , Stannis tried to pretend he was verbalizing something he was typing onto the chat screen to LADYDIRE rather than looking straight at Sansa Stark.  “How very disappointing.  I was sure my shoulders were tensing.”

At this, Sansa’s cheeks went from a slight pink to full on crimson.  “I’m sorry,” he began, running a hand along the back of his neck in frustration.  “I was trying to . . . “

“Flirt,” Sansa finished for him, beginning to recover her natural coloring.  “And very well too.”  Had he finished, it would have been to say that he was trying to make a joke, yet was quite proud that anything he said could be considered flirtatious.  

Sansa took his arm.  “I don’t have to see the staterooms.  We can go back upstairs.” 

“Come on,”  Stannis said, motioning her forward.  “The main stateroom is quite the showpiece.” 

The master stateroom had a massive mahogany bed, as well as gleaming mahogany floors and a built-in dresser, chest of drawers, and nightstands.  The rich darkness of the mahogany was offset by the cream colored comforter and wrap-around window covers currently pulled back to show the breathtaking view of the Golden Hour against the sea.  “Is this your stateroom?” Sansa asked, looking around just one step inside the doorway with him leaning against the door frame. 

“Robert, Renly, and I are never on the Fury together so the plan is that this is the stateroom of whichever one of us is onboard with the other staterooms for guests.  I never sleep here.”

Sansa studied him and he wanted to ask her what she was trying to discern, but did not.  “Show me your stateroom,” she beckoned outstretching her hand for him to take. 

He led her to the other side of yacht to a much smaller stateroom with a single bed and while it still had the opulence of the vessel with similar mahogany furnishings, it was far less extravagant than the master stateroom.  “I usually have Shireen with me.  She stays in the next stateroom, so I want to be nearby in case she wakes up in the middle of the night and is disoriented by not being at home.” 

That such a simple statement of fact could earn such a smile from her nearly shattered him.  That bed was too close if Sansa was going to keep looking at him that way.  “We’ll miss the sunset if we don’t go topside.” 

Stannis still kept hold of her hand as he walked her back to the stairs and they made their way up them.  He continued to hold her hand while he led her to the stern.  Sansa shivered as soon as the wind hit her fully and he wondered if she knew he was smiling.  Letting go of her hand, he took the few steps to the chair where his navy blue sports coat, selected more for the colors he thought she would be wearing, was folded over the back.  Stannis draped the jacket around her shoulders and gently freed her coppery tresses from the underside of the jacket.  When he took his place next to her, Sansa leaned into him.  _Put your arm around her, you idiot!_ Slowly and cautiously, he ran his hand up the back of the jacket until it rested on her shoulder.  This made her lean even closer, laying her head on his shoulder.  Because they were on the eastern side of Westeros, the sun set over King’s Landing and not over the sea, but it still made for a beautiful sight.  They stood that way watching in silence as the Fury moved farther out to sea until it was completely dark and the crew turned on dimmed lights in the covered part of the stern.

“Ready for dinner?” he asked in low tones, still keeping his arm around her. 

“Yes,” she whispered, but didn’t move until he took his hand and arm away.    

“You should probably put this on,” Stannis observed, taking the jacket off her shoulders and holding it open for her to slip her arms into.  “You can roll up the sleeves to eat.” 

They went back to the covered part of the stern where the table was set for two with plush vinyl chairs that swiveled should you want to turn and look out.  For his own part, he’d seen quite a bit of the sea and preferred to look at the woman who would be sitting across from him.  He did turn her seat away from the table and hold it there until she was seated in an awkward gesture to emulate holding the chair for her.  She thanked him with both words and another smile.  While he referred to Massey as The Smiler for his constant grin, Stannis knew he’d do damn near anything to keep that smile on her face.  She was lovely without it, but even more so with it. 

Dinner was four courses:  pear salad, oysters on the half shell, poached lobster with roasted asparagus and a carrot / ginger puree, and blood orange cheesecake.  Stannis had seen her drink red wine before, but felt a bit flattered when she asked for the same water and lemon he drank.  He had prepared several conversation starters, but had only really needed the one he led with.  Stannis asked her if she missed the North.  The one-word answer of “sometimes” was followed by stories of Winterfell and he was able to prompt her for more with simple questions.  It was going well until she asked him about growing up at Storms End.  Stannis had no funny anecdotes about the antics of his brothers and he, unless them endlessly making fun of him for being so taciturn and dull turned out to be amusing.   Still, he loved Storms End and simply replied, “It’s more home than King’s Landing will ever be.”

“Do you get back there often?”

“Not as much as I’d like, no.” 

Sansa didn’t say any more about it, perhaps because she knew Robert couldn’t or wouldn’t run BE on his own.  She rounded out the conversation for the rest of the meal by asking him questions about his time in the Westerosi Navy and what he studied at Stormland University.  It occurred to him that she asked him more about himself and now knew more about him in one meal than Selyse did in nine years of marriage. 

When the meal was over, he walked her back out on the far stern where they could once again look out at the sea and the sky.  “Have you ever been sailing before?” he inquired, resorting back to one of his planned conversation topics. 

Her easy laugh made him relax.  “Never.  After work, but before I got on chat the next night, I studied nautical terms for two hours because I was clueless.  I knew a few terms from general reading, but not many.”

The words to scold her for not telling him since she could have ended up sea sick started to form, but turned into him mentally scolding himself for not asking sooner.  Instead, he pushed back all the mental gymnastics.  “What do you think?”

“I think that I hope you’re going to teach me to crew the smaller craft with you.  This is lovely and I could get soooo used to it, but being able to manage the sails and . . . well, it would be amazing.”

He had been falling for her since he saw her, bit by bit, yet Stannis pondered whether she had any idea how she had just pushed him past the point of no return with a simple comment about wanting him to teach her to sail. 

As if on cue, Billie Holiday could be heard through the speakers.  He’d originally considered ‘The Very Thought of You’, but when he listened to it again, it wasn’t a tempo he thought he could dance to.  Testing a few others for both tempo and lyrics, he chose a song called ‘Tenderly’. 

“I believe I have this dance.”  Stannis slid one hand around her waist and held up the other up for her to put her to put her hand in.  Once she did that and started to put her other arm around his neck, he pulled her close.  Closing his eyes, he laid his cheek against her hair and took a deep breath.  _Gods she smelled good!_  

They swayed back and forth, feet barely moving until Stannis heard the cue.  He’d given himself a point where he would see if she was seriously going to let him kiss her.  Pulling back a little, she did the same and looked up at him, her blue eyes bright in the moonlight and the faint light from the dining saloon.  _Soft and lingering_ . . . he remembered . . . _hot, passionate kisses are later_.  Sansa must have realized they’d come to this part of their script, for she started to raise up and lean back toward his face instead of his shoulder.  However, they both must have closed their eyes before determining which way to tilt their heads because instead of the lips meeting lips that Stannis was eagerly waiting for, their noses bumped.  He quickly went the other direction and bumped noses with her again.  “Damnit” he heard himself mutter as he opened his eyes and started to pull away from her, but Sansa tightened her hold on his neck, her face showing great amusement.  “Go to your right,” she said softly, her hands along his neck pressing as if to urge him to lower his head towards her again. 

This time, he kept his eyes opened until he was assured he would hit his mark.  Again, he reminded himself . . . _Soft and lingering._ His first touch of his lips to hers was deliberately light and he mentally counted to five before he moved to place another part of her soft mouth.  Stannis kissed her upper lip, counted to five, and then moved to her lower lip, which was moving underneath his.  Sansa pressed the lower half of her body closer to him so he thought he must be doing at least satisfactory.  He stayed around her mouth for several more kisses before straying to kiss along her cheek and jaw until he reached her neck.  Her head lolled farther to the right to give him better access.  Here, he lost a bit of control and his tongue lathed a small spot on her neck.  When he heard a small moan escape her, Stannis damn near lost all control but steeled himself to stay on script.  _She had said she might give him permission for a hot, passionate kiss later in the evening_.  Still, he continued to kiss the area that elicited the moan and was rewarded with another one before he returned to her mouth.  Again, he got carried away and his tongue began to trace the seam of her lips and they opened and her body seemed to shiver against him.  Instead of assuming, Stannis moved to whisper hoarsely in her ear a simple one-word question, “Permission?”

“Yes,” came the breathy reply.  Stannis still went back to the lingering kisses against her open mouth before slowly tracing the inside of her mouth with his tongue.  The second her tongue joined his in an age old dance, Stannis lost the script and just went on instinct and desire.  His hand splayed into her hair while the other went lower on her back in a primal attempt to bring their hips closer together.  It was then that he realized he was straying into dangerous territory that would be physically obvious and pulled back.  Gazing at her, Stannis watched as she opened those incredible blue eyes.  Her cheeks flushed and, due to his hands in it, her hair a bit mussed . . . he’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his whole life with the possible exception of Shireen. 

“Would you consider this our first date, our third, since we really didn't talk about dating at all on the first chat, or is it our fourth?”  Sansa broke into his thoughts, leaning a hip against the lifeline. 

“By all sense of logic, it’s our first, but the number four popped into my head upon hearing the question.” 

“Is Shireen at home with a sitter?” she continued her inquiry, looking down at the deck floor and biting her lip. 

“No.”  Stannis began to feel his heart beat harder in his chest and was sure she could hear the pounding as she was only a foot away from him at the most.  “She’s with friends for the night.”

“Will the crew leave when we dock?”  _Was it his imagination or were those blue eyes of hers actually darkening?_    

“They’ll do some cleanup tonight although most of it tomorrow, but within a half hour or so, yes.” 

Sansa moved to close the small gap between them and he could see that she was trembling.  “I’ve been with two men and neither one was on a first date or a fourth date . . . I don’t want to go home tonight, Stannis.”

Billie Holiday continued to belt out tunes over the speakers and he had no idea what the song was, nor did he care.  Every part of him wanted to take her hand and lead her down below to the first stateroom they came to.  Yes, she was giving him the invitation and it was only fair that if he expected her to walk through a door she opened, inadvertently or not, that he be prepared to do the same.   

He knew with every second that he didn’t answer her, she would lose courage and feel like she had done something wrong.  “I don’t want you to go . . . you have no idea how much I want you to stay.” Taking her hand in his again and entwining their fingers.  “You need to know that while I’m not asking you for a commitment on the basis of one night, I don’t  . . . if I . . . hells, I have no idea how to explain this.”

“You wouldn’t be intimate with someone simply for a night of pleasure and neither would I,” she answered, reading his thoughts as it seemed she had a capacity for doing.  “Waiting would be the prudent thing to do until you’re . . . until we’re certain.”

The rush of disappointment was overwhelming, yet he heard her loud and clear that she had started to make an initial assumption that it was him who was uncertain. 

Billie Holiday stopped singing and, as it was set up, a soft rock satellite station began to play.  The last part of the song currently playing was an older one he recognized that was well before her time.  The last refrain was screaming at him . . . _the first time ever I saw your face_.  What came on next was almost embarrassing.  Suddenly they both heard Norah Jones singing _Come Away with Me_. 

“I swear I did not do that on purpose,” Stannis stammered, knowing she would remember just as much as he did that, in their chat fantasy, this was meant to be her seduction song. 

Instead of making any comment, she turned away from him toward the sea. 

He stayed by her side watching the black moonlit sea on their return voyage to King’s Landing until the song was over.  Wordlessly, because he didn’t know what to say, he went in search of the captain and had a brief word with him about leaving as soon as possible once they docked and tied up.  Of course, these were standard instructions for Robert and possibly for Renly as well. 

Stannis returned to find her with hands outstretched on the lifelines looking out into the sea.  The wind was blowing the back of her skirt back and forth around her calves or at least up to where his jacket held it down and her hair was blowing back toward him away from her face.  This was the picture he’d had in his mind during the chat of STONESTAG and LADYDIRE.  He came up behind her, putting his hands on her waist and whispering in her ear from behind, “I’m certain.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, this one is initially posted unproofed and may get an edit or two. 
> 
> This chapter should be title "The Condom Debate" and I thank all the commenters who were invested enough in Stansa to give their thoughts on the subject! The comments for the previous chapter are probably way better than the end result here:)

King’s Landing 2015  
Sansa Stark

The oddly descriptive words that came into Sansa’s head when she heard Stannis speak softly to her were _velvet gravel_. The sound of that velvet gravel spread a delicious warmth throughout her, despite the cool breeze, that warmth seemed to pool in one not-so-surprising area of her anatomy. When the velvety graveled words _I’m certain_ hit her ears, it made her knees so weak, she had to lean back against him to keep from falling. Whether the reason Stannis circled his arms around her tighter was because he sensed she was in danger of slipping to the floor of the deck, Sansa neither knew, nor cared. They stayed in that embrace until the Fury pulled up to the dock and was tied off. Sansa was sure he was just as reluctant as she was to make a show for any crew that might be nearby of their going below.

“Is the jacket warm enough?” he asked, sending another rush of warmth through her just after she was beginning to recover a bit. 

“Mm-hmm,” Sansa replied dreamily, knowing she would become a ball of nerves the second they started to move away from the rails. _No, remember, they’re lifelines._ She was about to tell him that his body heat added to the jacket’s warmth, then thought better of it. She’d seen a side of Stannis tonight she barely hoped existed. It was no surprise that he tried to an almost comical degree to make no deviations on the evening from the way it played out in their chat fantasy. It was the most endearing thing Sansa could imagine. 

Someone on the crew must have turned the satellite radio volume down once they were back in the marina. Since _Come Away with Me_ played, there had been several songs that did not seem like they were trying to drive them toward one of the berths below. Just as he nuzzled her hair, the radio began playing Marvin Gaye’s _Let’s Get it On_. Five seconds into the song, something happened that nearly gave Sansa a heart attack . . . Stannis Baratheon broke up laughing. He actually let go of her and took a step back to keep the sound from booming in her ear. Turning to actually _see_ this miracle or whether someone else had joined them, her jaw felt intact although she was certain it was more likely somewhere on the deck of the Fury. Sansa saw that laughing for him consisted of a sort of smirk with a chortling sound. Despite the semi-darkness, she could see his eyes twinkling. In an even more unprecedented and shocking move, Stannis reached for her hand and twirled her once before pulling her close and placing a hand on her hip and then leading her in a dance that fit the timing of the suggestive song perfectly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that some of the departing crew stopped along the gangplank to watch for as long as they dared. Sansa wouldn’t be surprised if this made the front page headline of tomorrow’s King’s Landing Herald. 

As the song faded out, Stannis gave her one last twirl and ended the song with her pulled up against him. “At the risk of being cliché, who are you and what have you done with Stannis Baratheon?” she said, her smile tinged with residual astonishment. “What other secrets have you been keeping?”

Instead of answering her, Stannis studied her face. While his normal, neutral scowl returned, the light in his eyes remained. “I may have to take back every scathing curse I ever uttered when my tutors insisted dance instructors be hired to teach Renly and me.” 

From the dance, she had one hand on his shoulder and one hand in his. Sansa moved the hand on his shoulder around until she was able to run her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. She initiated this kiss, straining against him as she did so. Like its predecessor, it started slowly. However, unlike their first kiss, Stannis didn’t pull away when it began to get intense. The end of this kiss came more because they both had run out of breath. 

His chest moving up and down, Stannis waited to regain some composure. “You can still change your mind and I’ll take you home,” came more of the velvet gravel, “But I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Let’s go downstairs,” was her husky reply. 

Stannis pulled away from their embrace to take her hand and lead her forward until they reached the upper saloon and the spiral staircase. He didn’t hurry her and showed an ounce of caution as he walked with her down the narrow stairs. Once on the lower deck, she saw that a few lights had been left on and her clutch purse and been moved from the upper deck table to sit on the galley counter by one of the crew. Stannis started toward the master stateroom. “Please . . . not there,” Sansa blurted out, stopping and causing him to jerk back a bit. The idea of making love to him in a bed where Robert Baratheon brought women he’d successfully charmed into a one-night stand suddenly seemed the absolute wrong place for them to begin. “Your stateroom . . . please.” 

There was no smirk or chortle, but Sansa saw his eyes light up again. “You do realize there’s only a single berth in that stateroom?”

“Do you mind?”

Instead of a verbal answer, Stannis changed direction and led her to the stateroom that was half the size of the master and flipped the switch to turn on the light. “Do you have a shirt here I could borrow?” Sansa asked hopefully. The thought of him undressing her was exquisite; however, she did need to use the restroom and knew it was best for him not to see her nude in the light until she had time to explain the scars on her back. The temper flare he would have was not the way she wanted this to start out. There was already the likelihood that he would feel them and stop what they were doing to investigate what they were and how they came about. 

He opened the built-in chest of drawers and pulled out a crisply folded, button-down, white shirt, handing it to her. Sansa placed a soft kiss on his cheek as a reward for not questioning her request and made her way to the adjoining head. After satisfying the main reason for being in that room, she undressed and took one of the folded clothes and washed her face and then some of the more intimate parts of her body before donning the cotton shirt. 

Sansa found him in the single bed lying on his side facing her with his head cradled in his palm supported by his arm bent at the elbow. The sheet and bedcover were pulled up to his just above his thigh. He’d dimmed the light to a soft glow and she took in the sight of his bare chest with the smattering of dark hair before moving toward the bed to join him. His clothes were neatly folded on the dresser. Slipping next to him and taking a similar position facing him, Sansa asked in the softest of whispers, “Would you turn off the lights please?” 

“You’re hiding something and I can guess it has to do with . . . with bad boy number one. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

She could imagine the debate he was having with himself and patiently waited it out without protest. Sansa would abide with his demand if he wanted to see her back tonight and get the storm over with. Stannis leaned across her and turned a nob on the headboard until the room as almost dark, but not completely. Taking the hand that wasn’t supporting his face, he caressed her cheek, “I won’t be surprised by anything and I’ll try not to react to it . . . tonight . . . but tomorrow I’m going to ask you to tell me about it.”

“I will,” she promised. “Tomorrow.” 

With that, she laid down on her back and Stannis made the first move in yet another kind of dance. Propping himself up on his elbow still, he moved until he loomed over her. Stannis lowered his head until his lips faintly brushed against hers before moving to her forehead and working their way back down. The hand on the arm not holding him up began an exploration while he kissed her that started at her hip. His fingertips lightly traced a random pattern on the cotton fabric as it lay against her skin. His hand moved to join the other one in slowly unbuttoning the shirt, stopping to trail kisses as he pulled the shirt open a little with each button. Sansa was already beginning to writhe as her hand went to the hair at the back of his neck and ran her manicured nails along his head. 

Once the shirt was completely open and her breasts were exposed, he took one in his mouth and need the other with his hand. A moan escaped her lips and he left her breast and swallowed the protest that came in the form of a whining sound as his mouth covered hers hotly. She felt his hardened shaft bump against her thigh as he explored her mouth in exquisite detail. Reaching for it, Stannis caught her hand and pulled it away. “Too soon,” the sound of velvet gravel rumbled in her ear. “This will be over far too quickly if you do that.” 

That was certainly not her objective, so instead she ran her hand along his back, taking his cue of making random patterns along his back and he returned to his exploration of every nook and crevice in her mouth and then her ear. His mouth returned to her breast and she was unsuccessfully at biting back yet another moan. Stannis Baratheon was a just man, everyone said so. It only stood to reason that he would spend equal time on her other breast to her delight. 

Once again, Stannis trailed kisses down the center of her torso. This time, he passed her navel and made his decent lower. _Was he really going there?_ Just as Sansa was taking a deep breath, she felt his tongue on that most sensitive of places and had to fist the sheets to keep from bucking into his face. _Take that mental list of things you believe Stannis Baratheon would never do and just blow it out your ears, Sansa Stark!_

He accompanied his persistent lathing by first inserting one probing finger. Sansa did buck up then, but he moved with her. She wanted to do something for or to him, and had no idea what since he had advised her not to touch him there. Giving up, she left herself to run wild with the sensations he was bring forth. Wave after delicious wave of pleasure rushed through her and when he inserted another finger, she threw her hand over her mouth to muffle crying out. 

His fingers were still inside her when he slid back up the bed to kiss her again. He’d obviously wiped his mouth on something because although a voice in the back of her head made her realize that she could taste herself on him, she knew she was sopping wet down there. He continued to work his fingers awhile longer and she was so close. Stannis must have realized it too because he removed his fingers and carefully moved on top of her and her legs wrapped around his thighs. “Now,” he instructed huskily, “you can take me in hand and guide me.” 

Sansa felt him tremble as her hands wrapped around him and she pulled the hardened shaft forward until it she had worked it to her opening. They both made the first thrust together, although she could tell he was trying to hold back and allow her to get used to him. That wasn’t what she wanted. 

“Please Stannis” she begged, and he began to move in and out of her. Sansa could tell he was letting her body dictate the rhythm of his thrusts. She made sure that she conveyed that he could speed up whenever he was ready because she was so close. Stannis complied and the grunting sounds he made each time he thrust forward mixed with the moans she was trying to muffle into his shoulder made for the sweetest music she’d heard all night. 

Sansa found her release first, tightening her thighs around him like a vice grip when it hit her. There were only a few more thrusts before she knew he, too, had released. The end was celebrated with another kiss before he laid back and pulled her against him, putting an arm around her. They lay like that for several minutes; the only sound in the room was the sea hitting the side of the gently swaying boat and their breathing trying to calm itself. Eventually, he kissed the top of her head and made his way over her and got off the bed. He came back with a wet cloth from the head and, fumbling a little in the dark from his standing position, bent over her and carefully mopped up the excess moisture from between her legs and then did the same for himself. He took the cloth back into the head as best she could see before returning. “Scoot over,” he said, and she moved over. Again, he pulled her into his arm and she settled her head in the crook of his shoulder. 

The kindest thing she could say about Joffrey was that he was selfish in bed. Sandor was all rough passion that had been exciting at first, until it began to be fueled by alcohol, which became more and more frequent, it could be as scary as one of Joffrey’s rages although she knew Sandor would never have hurt her intentionally. Stannis, however . . . if she were being truthful, Sansa would have to admit didn’t have high expectations of him as a lover and had decided it wasn’t her first priority in their being together. _That’s what you get for listening to the rumors of others._ There was both gentleness and passion, and no question that he made her needs his first priority. She drifted off to sleep noting that for the first time in years, she was would miss seeing two o’clock in the morning. 

Sansa woke to the sound of Stannis talking. Opening her eyes, she saw him pacing just outside the stateroom with the door ajar enough to see him bare chested and bare footed with his slacks on and zipped up, but the top button undone. _Well at least she wasn’t totally wrong in every assumption she had about him – if he’d walked out of that room totally naked, she wouldn’t have been sure of anything she thought she’d learned by studying over the past year._

“Can you put her on for a minute?” Sansa heard him say. She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but there was really no place else to go at the moment except to the bathroom, _oh yeah, here, it’s a head_. So she went there. Even in there with the door closed, she could hear him. “Good morning. Having fun?” _Oh! He’s talking to Shireen._ Her panic button was pressed again at how the little girl might take her father dating or, dare she hope, being in a relationship. “No, she did not think I was a dork for wearing a navy blue jacket over a black shirt. I didn’t actually wear the jacket.” _So his daughter knew he had a date last night!_ Sansa felt bad about eavesdropping despite being unable to avoid it. She began running water and looking around for something that might resemble a toothbrush. Opening one of the small vanity drawers, she saw several cellophane-wrapped toothbrushes and small, travel-sized containers of toothpaste. _Gods old and new bless the crew of the Fury!_

Finished, she went back into the stateroom and heard Stannis wrapping up the conversation with his daughter. “I’ll pick you up later this afternoon and work on the other thing . . . have a good time . . . me too.”

When he came back into the stateroom, she watched his eyes to gauge how he might be feeling about the morning after and saw no regret or remorse. “Checking in on Shireen,” Stannis said, running a hand through his hair and sitting back down on the edge of the bed sideways so that he was able to look at her. 

Sansa sat up, modestly buttoning his shirt that she still wore. “I know. I apologize; I couldn’t help overhear. She knows you had a date last night?”

Stannis rolled his eyes. “Tried to dictate what I was going to wear.” Then his eyes narrowed as he surveyed her face and she learned that he had the same fear that she did in reverse. “Tell me honestly. Any regrets?”

“None,” she stated earnestly. “Well, except one . . . Stannis, we didn’t use any protection last night. I . . . I know I asked to stay, but I was . . . I didn’t think . . . I didn’t ask you . . . “ She didn’t know what to say and she definitely didn’t want him berating himself for not seeing to the issue. Sansa asked to stay; he had every right to assume she was on some form of birth control. He had every right to be mad at her if that’s the way it went. 

Sansa could tell he was thinking carefully about his next words and she gave him time. “Do you want children . . . at any time in the future?”

“Yes. But I have no intention of making you feel obligated . . . “

Stannis raised a finger to her lips to stop her mid-sentence and she heard more of the velvet gravel. “If we find we have to cross that bridge, we’ll cross it and yes, I will be obligated, but I won’t feel burdened by it.” He withdrew his finger. “We’ll show some restraint this morning and I’ll see to it.” As the brother of the best friend of the owner of Stark Holdings, and given the relationship between the two corporations, Stannis certainly knew she didn’t mean financial obligation. Her trust fund was more than adequate for her and a child. She meant another kind of obligation entirely. 

Losing herself in thought for a minute, when she returned, she saw he was watching her intently. “You made a promise to me last night,” Stannis reminded her when he was sure she was fully listening. 

It took her a second to figure out what he was talking about and then her face reddened and she felt a sense of shame. Sansa knew he would stand firm on this one and there was no way of keeping it from him forever, not and continue with what she hoped they’d find together. Still, she dreaded his reaction. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Sansa decided to start by showing him rather than telling him. She scooted around in the small bed until her back was to him and unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off her shoulders until it lay pooled around her hips. 

She moved her head to the side trying to see as much of him as she could in her peripheral vision. The clenched jaw was clearly visible as she felt his fingertips trace each scar as he surveyed it. The silence began to eat at her nerves and just as she was about to speak, Sansa heard him rasp under his breath, “I will kill that incest-begotten piece of shit.”

Sansa closed her eyes and bit her lip, fighting back tears. She’d promised herself she would not shed one more tear for Joffrey. When she had regained control, she firmly rebuked him. “No. No you won’t because he isn’t worth what that would cost Shireen, you, my parents, Robert, or me.” 

She started to pull the top back on, but Stannis stopped her. He leaned down and kissed the scars left by the riding crop that he could reach on the upper part of her back and then moved to her shoulder and up to her neck. She moved her head to the side to expose more of her neck, but before this progressed any further, Sansa needed to hear it from him. “Promise me, Stannis,” she begged, her voice breathy from the quickening of his pulse that his kisses were causing. “Promise me that you won’t go near Joffrey and if you happen to be near him for any reason, you’ll only scowl at him.”

“Once he finds out we’re together,” Stannis snarled, then kissed the ridge of her ear, “he’ll piss his pants at the idea that I’m coming for him.” He nipped at her earlobe, eliciting a moan. “Years of him looking over his shoulder wondering when he’ll find me there isn’t near enough.” He splayed his fingers in her hair and continued the kissing exploration along her jawline. “If you insist it’s what I have to be satisfied with, it will have to do.” Later, she would tell him how Robert allowed him to claim it was his idea to get rid of the name Baratheon and take the surname Lannister, insisting he never call himself a Baratheon again not because of his birth, but because of what he did to her. Now, she just wanted to enjoy what he was doing and forget Joffrey. 

His kisses and touches continued for another minute or less until abruptly stopped and pulled away from her. Sansa turned around quickly, pulling his shirt up over her out of a muscle memory habit than feeling a need to cover herself around him now. There was a look in his eyes that she had no frame of reference for. It wasn’t anger, but it looked like . . . no, she hadn’t a clue. “Did I do something?” Sansa whispered, worrying her bottom lip in confusion. 

“Of course not,” he said and stood up, pacing the floor. _Was this about Joffrey and her scars?_ After a few seconds of pacing, he stopped and turned to face her. “I can quickly dress, make a run to the nearest drug store, and be back in less than a half hour.” 

Sansa smiled at him with all she had. “Sounds like an excellent plan.” 

Stannis began dressing while she sat on the edge of the bed and then something shot into her memory. “I know it’s none of my business, but what are you working on for Shireen?”

“Hmm?” was his manner of query while he buckled his belt. 

Sansa wished now she hadn’t asked; it wasn’t yet appropriate to question him about anything between Shireen and him. However, she had started down this road. “I heard you tell Shireen you would work on something. Being here with me isn’t keeping you from helping her with some school project or the like?”

Without missing a beat, Stannis sat on the bed next to her and began putting on his socks. “She wants to cook dinner for us.” 

“Really!” Sansa exclaimed, more than a bit delighted that Shireen wanted to meet her. “She cooks?”

Stannis continued dressing like he was in a hurry for a BE board meeting, “Our cook has weekends off, so when I’m home, we cook. She has put together some pizza topping combinations that I almost refused to eat only to find out they were quite good.”

“I really can’t cook,” Sansa admitted.

He pulled the black Henley over his head and then quipped dryly, “I heard that rumor . . . it’s written on a chat room wall, I believe.” 

Sansa rose up from the bed and as soon his dressing ritual was done, she threw her arms around his neck. “I don’t think this . . . we . . . would have happened without that chat room.”

His hands slid up her back. “I’d like to say I would have manned up and taken a chance at some point, but we both know it wouldn’t have happened.” 

Kissing him once more and then pulling away, Sansa smirked at him. “Would you pick up a hairbrush at the drug store for me?”

Stannis narrowed his eyes in that way of his when he’s examining something. This time, it was her serious case of bedhead. “Must I? I like that look.” 

_Did he truly have any idea of the hold he had on her heart?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tommyginger, Jennilynn411, and Rachel because TG thought it up, both she and Jenni ran wild with it in comments, and then Jenni kept after me to really write it. Rachel – the Arya bit is ALL on you! 
> 
> This is also for those gracious and adored commenters who added songs and funny scenes for this wedding. Basically, if this last chapter tanks the fic, it’s all y’all’s fault:) :) :) If it works – it’s also all y’all’s fault because I stole shamelessly from your jokes . . . I mean comments . . . on this!

King’s Landing 2016

Renly

He tried not to be offended that Davos Seaworth was Stannis’ best man. Renly could understand his not naming Robert. Robert had always given Stannis a hard time. By rights, Best Man was an honor given a brother and should go to no other man unless one did not have a brother. Still, he had to admit that the wedding and small reception aboard the Fury were tastefully done. Not to his impeccable tastes, of course. Stannis should have taken his advice and had the reception at the Royal Garden where he could have octupled the guest list. Then again, Stannis didn’t have that many friends, but surely his bride wanted more guests to compliment her on her gown and give more gifts! Renly applauded Sansa for going against popular fashion and not having a strapless, backless gown. The lace back and illusion, bateau neckline were tastefully elegant while the bodice tapered to show her tiny waist and then flared out in gathered tulle and sequined skirt with chapel length train.

The very idea of his starchy older brother with Sansa Stark defied all logic. Loras suggested that she had to be marrying him for his money, but she had yet to tip her hand as a gold-digger. Stannis’ house in King’s Landing was modest compared to what he could really afford, and yet she had made no move to have him sell and buy something in one of the most fashionable parts of town. He truly hoped Sansa would make his brother happy. He was certainly less grouchy and there were times when he looked downright relaxed. And if you knew, Stannis, you would know that, today, he was quite pleased with the merger he had made. 

Davos

“After I picked myself up off the floor when Stannis called me and said that he was going on a date and asked if Marya and I would let Shireen spend the evening with us,” Davos started his toast, discretely editing out that he’d asked for Shireen to spend the night, “I tried to recover myself enough to nonchalantly ask who he had a date with.” Davos stole a look at Stannis. He wasn’t staring daggers at him, so he continued with line A rather than the safer line B. “When he told me Sansa Stark, I waited for the punch line and then I remembered . . . Stannis doesn’t tell jokes!” 

Everyone laughed, except Stannis. Still, Davos could tell he hadn’t strayed too far down the Mummer’s Road for him to be offended. “After I met her and got to know her as more than just a stunningly beautiful woman whose pictures I’d seen, I felt bad about that day. Here was a woman of both great beauty and a rare intelligence who could see the worth of the man that is Stannis Baratheon. I can’t imagine a more loyal friend or a more honorable man than Stannis. I can’t imagine a sweeter and more loving daughter than Shireen Baratheon. I can’t imagine anyone more perfect for them than Sansa. I am truly thankful to the gods, old and new, that Shireen has such a caring stepmother who will never be anything less than a devoted mother to her. And, I thank those same gods that my best friend, Stannis, has such a rare woman as Sansa Stark, excuse me . . . Sansa Baratheon . . . by his side. Ladies and Gentlemen, please join me in raising your glasses to Stannis and Sansa Baratheon . . . and their precious daughter, Shireen.”

After everyone sat back down from drinking to the couple, Davos first looked at Sansa and Stannis. She was beaming at him and Stannis’ eyes let him know he did well. Then he looked at Marya. He loved that woman to distraction, but did she always have to cry a river at these things? Lastly, he looked at little Shireen who, the minute their eyes met, blew her Uncle Davos a kiss. He’d meant every word . . . _thankful_ was exactly what he was. 

Catelyn

If someone had told her two years ago that her daughter’s happiness would be due to Stannis Baratheon, someone she would have said was more machine than man, she’d have told them they needed medical help. The age difference bothered her a little. Stannis’ lack of personality bothered her a lot more. Sansa assured her he had one and she certainly seemed to be pleased by it. Catelyn could not believe how relieved she and Ned had both been when Sansa told them she was moving in with Stannis and his daughter about six months ago. They were certain it would put an end to the relationship. They also surmised that the breakup would end her employment with BE and bring her home. They were wrong.

Looking at her daughter as she danced to Etta James’ _At Last_ with her new husband, Sansa smiling and Stannis not scowling as fiercely as usual but looking at Sansa with an intensity that Catelyn had to admit would curl any woman’s toes, she reveled in their happiness. Catelyn didn’t understand how they worked and certainly could not understand those who said Sansa was marrying one like her father. They worked, Sansa was happy, and Stannis would protect her from the nightmares of her past . . . that was all that really mattered. 

Arya

Arya had complained that the Maid of Honor’s dress was too girly. It had what Sansa called an illusion neckline that was like her wedding gown, as well as an a-line, knee length skirt all in burgundy. Looking at herself in the mirror just before the wedding, she hated to admit that Sansa was right . . . in a dress like this, she was a woman who could turn heads and in a good way. 

Something not many knew was that she loved to dance. Her fencing instructor insisted she learn to dance for coordination. Told she had to deliver a toast, Arya asked if she could do it not from the table during dinner, but after the three main dances - bride and groom, bride and father, and groom and daughter - were over. Sansa conceded that Arya wearing a dress and a touch of makeup with cooperation was enough to warrant a yes. It was odd, but this was a personal, intimate wedding of family and friends. 

Coming to stay with Sansa for a month after she went on summer break to help with wedding plans, Davos had given her the name of the DJ hired since a band would take up too much room and Sansa preferred recordings of original songs rather than a wedding band doing a cover. The DJ had been easy to talk into her scheme. From there, she enlisted Renly and Loras and worked with Shireen for two weeks whenever they could manage to get Sansa to run errands on her own for the wedding. Arya didn’t expect much of a protest from Sansa. She’d protest, but she’d still go along and have fun in the process. 

Watching the bride and groom dance, Arya was surprised that Stannis Baratheon, who she found dull as dishwater except when she got him talking about military history, could dance as well as he did. They had selected two songs, Otis Redding's _Glory of Love_ and Etta James' _At Last_. Their first fight almost came over Sansa's inability to choose and his desire not to. A coin toss meant _At Last_ was the bride and groom dance and _Glory of Love_ would be on the playlist for them to dance to later. Yes, Stannis wasn't bad on the dance floor. Perhaps he’d join into her little one-dance celebration. _Noooooo, the world would stop turning on its axis were that to happen_. 

Next, she was embarrassed at how she teared up watching Sansa dance with their father to some song Mother told her was almost fifty years old called _To Sir with Love_. She listened to the words the first time she heard it and had to admit they made a great choice. Her tears were Father’s fault because, although he was smiling, there was no missing those watery eyes of his. Father wasn’t much of a dancer, but they had practiced and he busted a few moves, like trying to twirl Sansa once or twice, other than just swaying side to side with her. The real show was their Mother. All Arya could say was it was a good thing Mother and Marya Seaworth were wearing waterproof mascara. 

Preparations for the groom and his daughter dance had been the hardest of all. Rightfully so, Sansa insisted that the choice be Shireen’s. Arya had helped Sansa narrow it down to ten songs. Stannis threw out six of them and when Arya asked Sansa why, she laughed and said because he claimed he’d make an ass of himself. When she looked at what was left to figure out the ones he’d removed, the first was obviously Guns n Roses Sweet Child ‘O Mine, which they both put on the list to tease him and the other five were the most sentimental ones. _Was Stannis Baratheon afraid his hard-ass image would be shattered by showing some emotion while dancing with his daughter to Daddy’s Little Girl?_ The four that were left were Elton John’s _Can’t You Feel the Love Tonight_ , Van Morrison’s _Tupelo Honey_ , John Mayer’s _Daughters_ , and Billy Joel’s _Lullaby_.

Shireen had listened to all four songs over and over again like her very life depended on making the right choice. She first narrowed it down to Can’t You Feel the Love Tonight because she loved Lion King and Lullaby because she said it sounded like Stannis to her. Ultimately, what ruled Shireen was what she thought her father would like. Stannis took his daughter’s tiny hand and led her to the dance floor wearing a miniature version of the dress Arya wore. At the musical beginning of Lullaby before Joel starts singing, Shireen curtsied to her father and he bowed in return. Then they joined hands and she first stood on his shoes and he rocked back and forth with her as best he could in time with the music, never taking his eyes from hers. 

For the second half of the song, Stannis picked her up and held her while she wrapped her little arms around his neck. Arya sniffled and looked around the room at what turned out to be a great comedy set to soft music. Robert and Renly Baratheon were flat out blubbering. Someone really needed to get a bucket for Mr. and Mrs. Seaworth. Father and Mother were both letting it rain a monsoon on their cheeks. And Sansa was going to need a makeup check badly. Toward the end, it was hard to hear the music for all the noses blowing into handkerchiefs. With all that, Shireen beamed at her stoic father and when the song ended, the little bundle of sweetness hugged his neck tightly and she thought the boat might actually flood when Stannis merely kissed his daughter’s temple and started to walk her back to the table. Arya suddenly thought it was not smart to be the act following that one, but it had to be done. 

She let the crowd pollute their handkerchiefs and tissues for a moment while she walked to the middle of the outdoor saloon of the Fury and got the microphone. Her mother informed her that Sansa did, indeed, need to fix her makeup. This whole process took about fifteen minutes. Arya turned the microphone off in the interim and talked to the DJ. Once Sansa had returned, Arya flipped on the microphone.

“Sansa, before you sit back down, I’d like you to join me, please. Stannis, I’d ask you to join us, but you’d legit try to kill me later, so stay there and enjoy . . . this is for you too. “

Sansa gave her a wary look but joined her all the same. Once her much taller sister was by her side, Arya continued. “Those of you who have an older sister know that they love to try to teach their younger siblings things . . . and boss them around too. I’ve learned a lot from Sansa. She taught me how to ride a bike. She tried to teach me to embroider and knit, but I took a pass. I distinctly remember her trying to explain the difference between flirting and being a tease because that was last week. And I also learned from her that you could make a major disaster out of boiling water . . . so, Stannis, keep the cook. But I want to share with you all, and with Stannis, the greatest lesson my big sister taught me. It’s something she is expert at and I’m a bit shocked to learn that so few people know she has this immense talent. She was patient about teaching me, insisting it was extremely important that I learn this skill.” On cue, the DJ began the opening strains of _The Macarena_ and Sansa turned purple although she laughed outright. Since the first part of the song was just getting the beat, Arya continued as it played. “So I want you all to witness the talent that is Sansa . . . Stark . . . Baratheon and join us if you think you’re able, as she shows us how it’s done . . . it’s _The Macarena_!” 

To Arya’s delight, Sansa didn’t protest or walk away coyly. The next beat after Los Del Rio yelled out _Ay!_ , both Sansa and Arya moved their hips side to side and put their arms out, hands down, one at a time. Next were palms turned upward, one at a time. Then they crossed their hands over their shoulders, hips still swaying from side to side, followed by placing their hands behind their ears. Cross one hand to the other hip, same with the other hand on beat followed by the right hand to right bum cheek then the left hand on the left bum cheek. Lastly, they did the exaggerated hip roll and a quarter turn. _Ay Macarena!_ Clap!

Sansa was grinning from ear to ear as Renly, Loras, Shireen and their mother joined them in the next set. The third set saw Davos, Marya, Robb, and Jeyne decide to take a stab at it. On the fourth set an inebriated Big Bob Bar, as Arya called him, tried to get in the act along with Jon and Ygritte. Bob was out by the sixth set while Bran and Rickon were in it but not even close to doing the right steps. All of the guests were spread out along the stern of the Fury with the exception of Father and Stannis. On the turn that had them all facing where Stannis sat with Father having joined him, Arya saw what Sansa had been telling her. If you looked for it and he wasn’t trying desperately to hide it, you could see what Stannis was thinking in his eyes. Looking at him now, Arya saw sheer adoration as he watched his wife dance. For the first time ever, Arya envied Sansa what the two of them had and wished that, one day, some man she adored would look at her the way Stannis looked at Sansa. _Ay Macarena!_

Robert

Taking another drink and being unsuccessful at stifling a belch, Robert remembered how much he wanted Sansa Stark to find someone so he could get over the guilt of what Joffrey had done to her. Catelyn had warned him that if Ned knew the full extent of it, things might change between them. He didn’t want that. There had been a great deal of relief in finding out that he hadn’t sired the rage-filled, yet mewling brat Joffrey showed himself to be at an early age, not to mention having the perfect excuse to get rid of Cercei with no alimony and only what he might want to give the children if he so desired. Where Tommen and Marcella were concerned, Robert had felt an obligation. They were sweet children and while they may not be of his seed, they were innocents in all this. 

Robert had bouts of having to tamp down the guilt he felt for not warning Sansa that the charming Joffrey she first met when she started at King’s Landing University was all smoke and mirrors. That guilt would rise up every now and then, like today, yet with the help of a little Jim Beam, he’d get it tamped down again. 

That said, Robert never in a million years would have picked Stannis as the man for Ned’s daughter. Hell, he’d never have picked Stannis as the man for anyone’s daughter. That’s why he forced him into marriage to Selyse Florent. The woman was a nut job; however, Robert had truly believed no woman would really make Stannis happy so it didn’t matter. It suited the business deal they needed to make at the time and while he couldn’t say Stannis went to the slaughter willingly, he went dutifully. _Yeah, that’s it, he went dutifully._

Now look at his little brother. Gorgeous, young wife who gazed at him like the sun rose and set in his ass. Adoring daughter who, while not a pretty child and never would be, made up for it in sweetness and her father’s loyal spirit. If you knew Stannis well enough, you could look at him and see that he was happy. _How the fuck did that happen?_ Robert was surprised to find that he was glad of it but _how the fuck did it happen?_ Everyone at BE was in shock that Stannis bought plane tickets that indicated he would spend three weeks on a honeymoon. No one believed he’d stay gone that long, and he’d bet that included Sansa. Yet the idea that he’d waste money on tickets he’d have to pay even more money to make a change to? That wasn’t Stannis at all. 

Robert gave the honeymoon a week, hopefully, a good week, before Stannis insisted that there were employees depending on him to keep his incompetent brothers from ruining everyone’s jobs by running the company into the ground. _Hell_ , Robert thought, _I might just surprise him by channeling our father and running the company without incident for three weeks . . . for her sake, of course . . .who can I get to run to the bar and get me another drink and more shrimp?_

Shireen

She heard people say things about her father that were stupid. Uncle Robert would refer to him as her mean ole daddy when he did his baby talk to her. Uncle Renly could be heard whispering about _poor Shireen_ to others and how she never had any fun with Stannis as her father. Her new Aunt Arya didn’t think he ever said anything funny on purpose, but he made her laugh all the time and he didn’t like it when people laughed when they weren’t supposed to. Only Mama, which is what she had asked Sansa if she could call her after she married Father, and Uncle Davos seemed to understand him like she did. 

For the smartest man she knew, Father could occasionally do or say something that made her laugh when he didn’t mean for her to. The day he sat her down and asked her if it was okay if Mama moved in with them while explaining this was only acceptable because they were both older had been so funny and she knew better than to laugh. And she still didn’t know why on his first date with Mama, he insisted that it was okay for him to wear a navy blue jacket with a black shirt when she told him those colors didn’t work together and he normally took her advice since he knew Uncle Renly had taught her all about colors. 

Mother was what she called the woman in a few pictures she had. Mother never came to visit and when she was _really_ little, she felt bad about it. Not anymore because she had a real mother now, although she called her Mama. They shared something special. They both loved Father and did their part in taking care of him. They were loved by him. It made them love each other. Shireen looked at them both as she sat next to her Father at the table set up on the Fury. He held her hand next to him on the padded seat and listened while Mama told them both how they each got a direwolf when they were young and how she wanted Lady to come live with them. 

Soon, Shireen would go home with Uncle Davos and Aunt Marya, who were now dancing to a song about being beyond the sea. It would be fun to play with Steff and Stanny for three weeks and Uncle Davos would spoil her as Father said was his special talent. She would miss them, but hoped they’d make a new brother or sister for her while they were gone. Shireen wasn’t quite sure how that was done, but she was told it would take a long time for form in Mama’s tummy before it was ready to come out as a baby. Shireen was patient . . . she could wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG BIG thank you to everyone who read this crack-fic. May we all find our path to recovery from Season 5 filled with lots and lots of Stansa!


End file.
